The Art Gallery
by KillYourSelfie
Summary: Dean and Sam go to investigate the other-worldly art gallery. Hi-jinks and shenanigans ensue. I mean, could you expect anything less from the most random combination for a crossover? Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Sam, hunched over his laptop on the desk in the motel room, was startled when Dean quite suddenly threw open the door and stumbled in.

"Have a good night?" Sam asked rather sarcastically.

"Oh, man, that chick was on fire!" replied Dean. In response, Sam merely sighed. "What's wrong with you? I could've gotten you a night with her sister, you know."

"Dean," began Sam, "We can't just keep doing this!"

"Oh God, here comes the lecture." Dean, annoyed, laughed, and plopped on one of the two queen beds.

"We have work to do!" Sam continued.

"The last time I checked, we had just finished a job, so excuse me for thinking that a little celebration was in order."

"Yeah, well, I found us another job," Sam responded, going back to his research on the laptop. Dean rose from the bed and stood over his brother's shoulder, examining the web page that was pulled up.

"Oh, I'm glad you found another one so soon. I was starting to miss working," Dean said, his sarcasm apparent. "What's this one about?"

"Well," started Sam, ignoring Dean's previous comment, "There's an art gallery-"

"Woah, an art gallery? Are you only saying there's a job there but you really just want me to go to some nerdy art gallery with you?

"No, Dean, of course not. Though you probably could use some culture-"

"Sammy, I am the most cultured out of the two of us."

"Whatever. Just, listen." Dean leaned over Sam's shoulder to get a better look at the computer screen. "This art gallery apparently swallows people and traps them in some other-worldly place."

"How do we know this? Were there any survivors?"

"Only two I can find. They both say that they were gone for a long time, but when they got back, only a few minutes seemed to have passed. What's more is that they said that they almost didn't even remember what happened. If it weren't for some memento or something that reminded them, they would've just lived out their lives normally."

"Have they shut the gallery down?" inquired Dean.

"Not that I can tell... Apparently, these two describe that they were transported to this alternate world by walking into an exhibit. Security is just making sure that no one does that. Not that they probably even believe their stories to begin with."

Dean began to pace in the tiny walking space of the motel room. "What do you suppose it is that's doing this?"

"Not sure... Maybe it's a parallel universe with a force that's bringing these people in, but I can't tell..." Sam appeared to be stumped, as he focused once more on the computer and scratched his head.

"So much for a break..." Dean said, harshly. He was ignored by the focused Sam. Sighing, he stood up and proclaimed, "Well, I guess we better get a move on. Where to?"

"We're going to talk to the two known survivors. Apparently, they've become friends. We are gonna meet them at a cafe that specializes in macaroons."

"Macaroons?" Dean asked, mockingly.

"Yeah, they're little pastries with cream that kind of look like hamburgers."

Dean clutched his stomach. "Oh, man, I could go for a hamburger right now."

Slamming his laptop shut and standing up, Sam replied, "Whatever. Let's go."

Ib swung her feet back and forth under the tall table at which they sat. Her and Garry were both enjoying delectable macaroons.

"Do you like them, Ib?" Garry asked. She nodded her head affirmatively. "They're the ones that I talked about when we were-" Not wanting to remind the young girl of the torment they both endured at the art gallery, he stopped himself from completing his sentence.

"I remember," replied Ib in her small voice. Garry smiled solemnly then glanced at his watch.

"I hope you don't mind Ib," he began, "but there are two men coming to interview us about... what happened." Even still, he struggled to delicately discuss it. "I'll do most of the talking if it... bothers you too much."

Continuing to kick her legs under the table, she replied, "I'm okay." Garry patted her on the head. A few moments later, the bell on the cafe sang and the Winchester brothers strolled in. The sereneness that had previously surrounded the establishment was replaced with the specific atmosphere Sam and Dean carried with them usually. Quickly, Sam surveyed the room for purple hair.

"Ah, you must be Garry," Sam said, walking towards Ib and Garry's table with Dean following him.

"Man, of course it would be the weirdest looking person here," Dean whispered to Sam.

"Dean, come on," replied Sam.

"For real, though. What's that thing on his head?"  
"I dunno."

"Is it a spider?"

"Dude, shut up."

Reaching their table, Sam introduced them. "Hello, I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean."

"Hey," Dean quickly said to Ib, who only stared intently at the two. "...Ooookay then."

"Hello, Sam and Dean. As you know, I'm Garry, and this," said Garry, gesturing towards the girl, "is Ib."

"Interesting name," said Dean to Ib, once more trying to soften her up. When she did not respond in any manner, he shifted awkwardly to sit down, Sam following.

"So, Sam, what did you say this is for?" asked Garry.

"Oh, uh, this is for our book about paranormal experiences. Yeah, we've been interviewing a lot of people, but you guys are the first to have an almost parallel universe experience."

"Are you two brothers?" asked Garry.

"Yeah, yeah we are," replied Dean, who was feeling especially strange, as Ib began to stare intently at only him now.

"So, from the very beginning, how did you actually get to the other world?" asked Sam.

"Well, I don't remember as much as Ib does, but she's told me that everyone in the gallery suddenly disappeared. After a message that said something like "Come, Ib" appeared near one of the larger paintings, she discovered that one of the exhibits, titled "Abyss of the Deep" was opened, and that she could walk right into it, which lead her to the other world."

"Interesting," Sam responded. He turned towards Ib, "You say that the message just appeared? Like, you saw it as it was written or you left and came back and it was there?"

"It appeared," responded Ib. Dean shifted uncomfortably as she spoke.

"Garry," Dean began, "Was there anyone else besides you two in the parallel world?"

"Yes, there was..." Garry began. He faltered for a moment before continuing. "No... No just all art exhibits that came to life and attacked us."

"Why did you say there was someone else and change you mind?" Sam asked.

"Well... it's a bit difficult to explain, but... There was this one girl, Mary, who we believed to have also been in the same situation as us, but she turned out to only be an exhibit," Garry explained.

"Her rose was fake," Ib added. Dean turned towards her, confused.

"What?" he asked.

Sam stopped him. "They were bound to roses in the gallery and when the rose lost all of it's petals..." He did not complete the sentence.

"I see you've read the article we were in," said Garry.

"Yes, well, we like to be prepared," replied Dean, smiling cockily.

"Tell them about how we killed Mary," Ib told Garry. Dean's smile immediately dropped.

"You killed her?" Sam asked.

"Well... She was only an exhibit, the very last of Guertena's works before he died," responded Garry.

"Guertena?" asked Dean.

"You should know who that is if you like to be prepared," Ib told him. Dean shifted awkwardly.

"That's the name of the artist of the works featured in the gallery," Sam said. "Now, Garry, you killed her?"

"She was attacking us, about to... kill us... so we burned her with my lighter."

"Was her painting based on a real person?" asked Sam.

"A book that I found in the gallery said that it was not based on an actual person, no."

"Hm, well, thank you Garry, thank you Ib, but we have to get investigating on this." Sam stood up, while Dean jumped up, ready to go. "We'll stay in touch, because I might have a few more questions for you."

"Good luck with the book, Sam and Dean!" said Garry.

"Goodbye," Ib said.

As the brothers walked away, Dean tuned to Sam and said, "What book was he talking about?"

"Uh, our cover story? Dean, do you ever pay attention?"

"Apparently not."

"And were you seriously getting creeped out over that little girl?"

"She was scary."

"No, she was just quiet. Dean, you need to learn to be more professional at this kind of stuff. We're never going to get anyone to talk like this to us!"

"Jeez, calm down. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Dean replied. Sam sighed, annoyed, and they continued to Dean's car. "And what was up with those two anyways?"

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"That guy was, what, like in his twenties or something and that girl couldn't have been older than ten."

"What are you implying?"

"All I'm saying is that Garry guy should be on the lookout for Chris Hansen."

"Shut up, Dean."

Back in the cafe, Garry said, "Well, those boys were nice." Ib sat, blank-faced. Garry lost his slight smile. "Ib..." he started, "I'm sorry we had to talk about... Mary..." Ib's expression did not change.

A few silent moments passed before Garry spoke again. "Well... I guess we better get going. Your mother's going to worry." After he stood up, Garry felt Ib's hand grip his coat as they walked out the cafe door, only a few minutes after the Winchesters had left as well.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and stuff, you guys. Also, in the last chapter, I meant to write "macarons" instead of "macaroons." They are entirely two different things. (Except macarons and _French_ macaroons I guess could be the same, but I digress...) Sorry about dumb mistakes I make. I typically write fanfiction at like 4 in the morning. But, yeah. Let's continue with this random crossover.

"Oh, Garry! Ib! I was beginning to wonder where you two had gone," Ib's mother proclaimed as the pair ascended the front steps to the family mansion.

"My apologies, ma'am. I took Ib out to study in the park, and it seems as if the time slipped away from us," Garry replied. Ib's mother smiled at him.

"Well, I suppose that getting so deep in art that you don't notice the clock is a good thing. I assume dedication is something that really can improve an artist. Oh, listen to me!" she said, covering her chest with one hand. "I'm talking as if I'm a regular Picasso when I'm really just an artistic wannabe!"

"Oh no, you're correct, ma'am," Garry assured her. He stole a look at little, stone-faced Ib, who was stoic as usual.

"Well, hearing that from a graduated art student certainly is relieving," she laughed lightly. After quickly glancing at her watch, her expression turned from light-hearted joviality to a slight panic. "Oh, drat! And speaking of time flying! I'm going to be late to my meeting if I don't leave now!" After kissing her daughter on the forehead, she wagged her index finger in Ib's face sternly. "Now make sure you behave. I know how children can be sometimes." Garry placed his arm around Ib's shoulders when he witnessed her fists clench, though her expression was static. Just as her mother passed Garry on her way out, she spoke softly to him, "Oh, Garry, one more thing." She looked at her daughter and ordered, "Go inside, dear, and do... whatever it is you children do. Adults are talking." Though she was reluctant to leave Garry's side, Ib obeyed her mother, leaving the two alone to speak. "Garry," she began, "Thank you for... helping her through this mental patch of hers."

"Oh, it's no problem, ma'am. I'd do anything for Ib. She's more than a student to me-" Garry was cut short by her astonished, accusing glare. He waved his arms innocently, "She's like family, I mean," and awkwardly chuckled.

"Anyways," her mother continued, "it's amazing that you would even admit to what she claims happened to her, just to make her feel more comfortable in her own psychosis. Truly remarkable." Garry shifted awkwardly due to the inaccurate way her mother perceived their situation, though she took this specific spout of awkwardness as a result of the miscommunication moments before.

"It's really nothing, ma'am," he replied, wishing she would just leave.

"Oh, Garry, please, call me by my first name-" she looked at her watch, "My heavens!" she exclaimed. "I really _must _run now!" She sped past Garry and down the front steps. "Thanks again!" she called as her figure disappeared down the winding driveway.

Sighing a breath of relief, Garry leaned on one of the pillars that adorned the elaborate stoop. Ib stood at the door, surveying his actions.

"Garry," she said, causing him to jump, as he had not noticed her.

"Ib," he clutched his heart while laughing, "you startled me."

"Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright. Come, let's work on our surrealism some more," he said as he put his arm around Ib and led her towards Ib's private classroom.

* * *

"A regular Salvador Dali," Dean said to his younger brother, both peering at a laptop screen that was full of various works of the late Guertena.

"Well, sort of," replied Sam. The Winchester brothers were once again in their motel room, much to Dean's annoyance, attempting to sort out the mystery behind the gallery. "You see, Guertena had a lot of phases as an artist. He painted realism, surrealism, and created sculptures."

"So, he's a well-rounded artist. What does that mean?"

"What's confusing to me is the bulk of what I'm finding points to that he mostly painted real people..." Sam trailed off.

"Didn't Seaweed Head tell us that the painting of Mary wasn't based on a real person, though?"

Sam turned in his seat and raised an eyebrow to his brother. "Seaweed Head?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Dean replied, "Yeah. I was hoping it would catch on."

Deciding to ignore him, Sam continued, "Right. And look what I found here..." _Click tap tap clack click, _pulling up a photo of one of Guertena's works "This is the only one I can find that has any semblance to being fictional."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it is argued that the woman in this painting was an ex-lover of Geurtena's and that she attempted to rob him of his inheritance or something like that, but many experts also argue that the story is false."

"Do you think it's this Mary person they 'killed?'"

"Well, I don't know. The title of the painting doesn't provide a name."

"Alright, print it, Sammy. We'll go have a talk with Seaweed Head and see if we have our woman."

* * *

"Oh, sorry, Ib! Someone appears to be at your front door." Garry and Ib were currently in the middle of an art lesson. "Continue with what you're doing, but don't go a step ahead or anything. I'll be right back!" Tearing off his smock, Garry briskly strode through the right wing in which Ib's classroom resided, down the foyer staircase, and up to the large front door. Opening the door without checking to see who the visitors were, Garry was slightly surprised when Sam and Dean smiled at him.

"Hi," Dean said, "I have a few more questions for you."


End file.
